Late Watch
by apelilly
Summary: Garet Jax contemplates the journy east as well as a certain halfelf. Mild slash. GaretJair.


Disclaimer: Wishsong of Shannara belongs to Terry Brooks.

- I think it's a cute pairing. And I'm not quite sure if I got their characters right, but it's kinda hard to do Garet. What with his lack of...expression? Hmm, not sure what the right word is. Oh well. Criticism is welcome. I'll ignore them, but feel free to flame.

Hope you enjoy!

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The forest was dark and silent; the night cloudy and somewhat chilly after the days rain. It had been like that for a few days and now it seemed that the bad weather would cease and begin to warm up.

The little company from Culhaven had settled down for the night. The chosen spot for sleeping was fairly dry, sheltered by a cluster of maple trees. All six of the company, including the Mwellret Stythys (who was still forced to go with them for imprisoning Jair only a few days earlier), were exhausted and hungry from traveling so far. They had made a small fire, eaten and went off to make their beds for the night. Stythys had been secured to a tree. They were asleep almost immediately.

All except for one.

Garet Jax stood watch. Everyone had agreed that they take turns just incase the Mwellret tried something. The Weapons Master volunteered to go first. He didn't feel like falling asleep just yet.

Shifting a bit on the somewhat wet ground where he sat, Garet sighed quietly. It had been quite a journey so far. He was familiar with long travels though, having adventured for most of his life. But this was different. This was an almost impossible quest into the lair of many dark creatures. Things that could kill you faster then you could say 'The Four Lands'.

Correction. Things that could kill others faster. He was the Weapons Master. Nothing had killed him yet. He was the best.

That's why he was here. Garet wanted to face that certain enemy who could give him a great fight. Maybe even kill him. He was even promised by the supposed King of Silver River that he would meet that enemy. At the end of this journy his search would be over and once the dust settled, one of them would be dead.

The Weapons Master shifted again, and his strange gray eyes looked over at his sleeping companions. All were good men in some way, he decided. Even the Gnome, Slanter, deserved respect. He had, after all, been protecting the Valeman from the moment this had started. Maybe even before that. They would stick to the pledge that was made and see to it the half-elf fulfilled his quest.

Garet sighed again. The Valeman, Jair Ohmsford, was a very interesting specimen, he also decided. Had been since he had rescued the boy in the Southland from that Gnome Patrol. Garet had learned a few things about him after that. The Valeman was fiery and talkative. Always trying to strike up a conversation to lighten the mood. Garet almost regretted not participating to ease the boy's discomfort while traveling to Culhaven.

Almost.

Garet wasn't a people person. He didn't care much for talking unless asked a question or if there was a need to explain something. Infact, the most he had said to Jair this entire journey was on the second night after leaving Culhaven. He had told the Valeman his dream of the fiery creature he was to fight and promised to be his protector throughout the quest. And he meant to keep that promise. No matter what, he would make sure nothing happened to the young half-elf. That promise alone made him uncomfortable.

There was no way of explaining it. He didn't know why he wanted to protect Jair so much, he just did.

As if sensing his thoughts, Jair shifted in his sleep, rolling over onto his side to face the Weapons Master, sighing softly. The sky had started to clear and now the young half-elf was bathed in moonlight.

Garet Jax stared at the Valeman for a moment, contemplating why his heart suddenly felt like it wanted to burst, and why his stomach was tingling with delight. Hmm, delight? Strange. Things were rarely ever delightful to him anymore. Most of the time he was bored and without interest. Then he reminded himself that the Valeman interested him and he felt slightly better. What didn't make him feel better was that fleeting moment of jealousy that rushed through him when that scaley Mwellret stared at Jair with his reptilian eyes. Stythys wanted the boy's magic. And in a way it seemed like he wanted Jair as well.

The Weapons Master's gaze shifted to the lizard still bound to the tree. The Mwellret had been silent through the entire march since leaving the prisons of Dun Fee Aran, where he had kept Jair captive for days. Stythys' eyes glanced to where he sat and the Mwellret hissed quietly. He had made it clear that he was not fond of any member of their little company. Garet Jax in particular.

Garet narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. No, he would have no problem whatsoever to cut that lizards throat if he tried anything.

The gray eyes shifted again back to Jair, just in time to see that the boy was waking up from his peaceful slumber.

Unruly blond hair fell into sleepy, sapphire blue eyes as the Valeman squinted in the darkness. He rubbed at his eyes and blinked for a moment, yawning. Then his gaze landed on Garet and the two stared silently at each other.

The Weapons Master's face was an emotionless mask as he stared at the Valeman. Although in his mind, the only thought he had, and couldn't understand why, was that the young blond looked quite adorable.

And it had been a long time since Garet Jax had thought of any living thing as being adorable.

Jair Ohmsford stared a moment longer before giving the Weapons Master a small smile. Garet had the strange urge to smile back. Must be the magic, he thought.

The young Valeman yawned again. "G'night Garet." He said softly, then turned around and a few moments later was dreaming peacefully again.

The Weapons Master did smile then, short but sweet. It disappeared quickly though, as the soft crunching of leaves could be heard coming from behind.

"It's my turn to watch now, Garet." Helt said quietly with a knowing smile. "You get some sleep."

Garet stared up at the tall Borderman for a moment, waiting for him to ask why he had been staring at the Valeman.

When Helt stared silently back, the Weapons Master sighed. He dusted himself off as he stood, his tall companion taking his place on the ground. Garet strolled over to a dry area of dirt that was, Helt noticed, close to Jair. The Weapons Master pretended that the area he decided to sleep at had nothing to do with the young boy, as he quickly wrapped himself within his cloak and attempted to doze off.

A few feet away from him, the gentle Borderman chuckled. He, and no doubt the rest of the little company from Culhaven aside from Slanter, would be glad to see some emotion put into the cold Weapons Master.

After all, magic or no magic, who could resist the lovable being that was Jair Ohmsford?

--End--


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